


Beginnings

by eadunne2



Series: Friends, Right? [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: BAMF Cas, Bunker, Love, M/M, Miscommunication, Sex, blowjob, dick joke, showering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 10:54:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5245628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eadunne2/pseuds/eadunne2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas’s pupils widen at the movement, but he tilts his head, thoughtful and not at all judgmental. Dean only has to squirm under the tender scrutiny for a few seconds before Cas says, “What do you want, Dean?”<br/>“I want to come on your cock, and soon.”<br/>Cas physically doubles over and lets out a soft whimper. “Please never stop saying things like that.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> I'm at work and this needs to get edited, but I really wanna just get it up, so here you go. I'll come back in and edit tomorrow so let me know about any glaring mistakes. Happy almost Friday!

“I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me,” Cas whispers, and Dean smiles at that. Forever sounds just about right. He’s about to start crying but before he does he leans in and kisses Cas again, kicking the door closed behind them.

The slamming sound jars them both, breaks the sweetness of the mood into something a little more raw. Dean slides his hands up into Cas’s hair to kiss him more thoroughly, licking into his mouth and Cas growls and pushes him backwards into the wall to pin him there with his body. Dean feels a little lightheaded. Cas wants him back. Loves him back. It’s overwhelming.

“I can’t believe you shot at me.”

Cas is working Dean’s shirt off and snorts. “First of all, you deserved it, and besides, I have excellent aim. I wouldn’t shoot you.” He pauses for a moment, reconsidering. “Well, actually…” 

Dean starts to scoff at that, but Cas is right, on both counts. “I’m sorry,” he says. “For before. I was...I went about it the wrong way.”

“I’ll say,” Cas murmurs, and his voice is tight, the wound still fresh, but then he glances up. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Slumping back against the wall, Dean shrugs, withdrawing from the shared space. He’s anchored by Cas’s hands on his hips but also feeling so, so vulnerable. “I don’t know, man. I million reasons.”

Cas runs his palm up and down the lines of Dean’s ribs, and though the warmth is soothing but he can’t bring himself to look up from the floor. “Such as?”

“I didn’t even know if you were into dudes, much less me. And what if I freaked you out? Besides Cas, you’re a fuckin’ angel, and I’m a...a walking weapon. I mean, what could I possibly offer you?” It’s a present tense question, not past, but Cas is just staring at him like he’s grown another head, which does nothing for the discomfort fluttering in his gut.

“What?”

“What could you offer - Dean. How could you even - How could you not know?”

“Not know?”

“How exquisite you are,” Cas breathes. “How profoundly beautiful.”

Dean huffs sadly. “Pretty face ain’t much to build a relationship on, Cas.”

“I’m not just talking about your face.”

“Ok, nice body then.”

“Dean, you are brilliant. No, you are,” Cas says, catching his eyes as Dean shakes his head. “You’re a natural engineer, you have the ability to think outside every box and about thirty things at once. You’re kind, and thoughtful. You’re a natural caretaker. You’re a brilliant strategist, when you’re not up your own ass. You’re a good man.”

“I dunno about that, Cas,” he tries to say, but it comes out a whisper. 

“I do. And I’ve seen your soul, remember? But,” he continues, tucking his fingers into the waistband of Dean’s jeans. “Your body is pretty incredible, too.”

Quirking a brow Dean pulls off Cas’s shirt and helps with the change of subject. “You know when this all started?”

“Uh, when you stabbed me in the chest?” 

Dean laughs. Never truer words. “Very funny, smart ass. That morning you were making bacon in your boxers...I wanted to put my mouth all over you so bad I ran into a table and practically broke my hip.”

“Well,” Cas says, and his voice is just a touch rougher than before. “Now you can.” He’s blushing.

Dean’s soft smile turns wicked and he leans in, lips ghosting up Cas’s jaw to hover right over his ear. “Yeah. I can,” and as he slides his mouth down to suck a mark onto Cas’s neck. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Cas whispers, shivering, and Dean snaps. Rolls them so Cas is pinned to the wall and works Cas’s belt open as they kiss, rough, teeth and tongue and needy little sounds that could’ve come from either of them. It’s been a long time since Dean’s been with a guy, but it doesn’t matter, any memory of it could never match up to the reality of stubble and soft, chapped lips, the smell of shampoo and cologne and the way Cas feels so fucking solid beneath his palms, so immovable. _”For as long as you’ll have me,”_ he’d said. 

The thought has him pulling Cas’s back by his hair and biting his collarbone, before Cas captures his mouth again with such voracity that Dean has to break away to breathe soon after. 

“Holy shit,” he pants, and Cas makes this broken sound in his throat at the loss of the kiss, almost too mournful for the situation and makes Dean think of all the things this man has lost: his grace, his family, his wings. Oh god, his wings. “Turn around, Cas,” he says gently, and the man complies, folding his arms on the wall and resting his forehead on them. The stance pushes his ass out a little ways from the wall and Dean takes advantage, shimmying Cas’s jeans and boxers down his hips so he can step out of them. He runs his hands down Cas’s thighs then back up to his chest, only barely brushing his cock, and Dean’s relieved that the other man is at least as hard as he is. It makes his mouth water, in fact, but there’s plenty of time and he has to do this first. His hands make lazy patterns across Cas’s front, gradually circling inward, as he presses kisses to the back of Cas’s neck and shoulders. 

Holding a palm up to Cas’s mouth he says, “Lick.”

Cas complies immediately, painting a line across Dean’s palm, but then continues up, sucking Dean’s first two fingers deep into his mouth and swirling his tongue around them. The sensation has Dean’s hips canting forward and Cas grinds his ass backwards to meet him. “Fuckin’ hell,” Dean growls and runs those same fingers over the crown of Cas’s cock before taking him in hand. As he does, he presses a biting kiss between Cas’s shoulder blades, where his wings once stretched.

“Ahh, Dean...fuck.” It’s almost a sob. Cas cursing is Dean’s new favorite thing in the world and he resolves to hear it as often as possible. He holds his hand still and rolls his hips forward, fucking Cas forward into his fist. “Dreamed of this,” Cas whispers. “Of you. For so long.” 

“Yeah?” Dean’s voice is rougher than he’d expected and he bows his head into Cas’s shoulder at the weight of the thought. “What did you dream about?”

“Dean -” he gasps. He’s blushing even to the back of his neck so Dean says, “Then show me.”

Cas shoves him back to pull his pants and boxers off and push him toward the bed.

“Kinda pushy huh?” Dean jokes, but there’s no denying his hard on and Cas’s eyes light up and he laughs. 

“Shut up. You like it.” They grin at each other and Cas kisses him softly before taking a step back to gaze at him.

“What?” 

“Just looking,” Cas says softly. And he is. Staring. Eyes sweeping Dean from head to toe, drinking him in, and he breathes, “You’re so beautiful.”

“Cas…” Dean protests, and folds his arms across his chest, but Cas shakes his head and tugs Dean’s wrists down. 

“So beautiful,” he repeats, and sinks to his knees, looking up at Dean coyly, though there’s no missing the mischievousness in his eyes. “Holy shit, Cas,” Dean whispers as Cas holds him by the calves and uses just his mouth, brushing his lips over the head of Dean’s cock before swallowing him down. 

He’s incredible. Dean’s almost jealous because there’s no way Cas is this good at giving head without some experience, but he’s too busy trying not to come right then and there to give it much more thought. Cas’s mouth is velvet and hot and his tongue stroking across the underside of Dean’s cock is driving him crazy. He looks up the entire time, blue eyes trained on Dean like he’s memorizing something.

It’s like worship. Dean feels fucking worshiped. It occurs to him that that’s exactly what Cas intended, and that thought alone has him painfully close to coming. “Fuck me, please,” he gasps and Cas moans around him. 

Dean finds himself laid out and worked open with surprising quickness and he finally asks, “Have you done this before?”

“Done what?” Cas pants, using one hand to squeeze more lube before adding a second finger.

“Been - ah - been with a guy.”

“Yes. So’ve you.” It’s not untrue, but Dean still doesn’t like the twisting feeling in his gut. Cas must see something on his face because he doesn’t pull out, but he stills his fingers. “Dean. You are the only person I’ve ever loved. If I’d known, maybe...but I’m millennia old, remember?” Still unconvinced, he says, “Do you want to stop?”

The sadness in his voice at that, combined with the fact that Dean did not miss him dropping the L word, makes the decision for him. “No, of course not.”

“Thank god,” Cas murmurs and smiles shyly. It’s actually kind of a relief that he knows what he’s doing. They can just enjoy themselves.

Which, judging by Cas’s cock, he is, though Dean hasn’t touched him in several minutes. The knowledge is making it hard to breathe. “Cas, you gotta hurry up.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

Dean frowns, though his words come out breathless and he rolls his hips. “What if I want you to?”

Cas’s pupils widen at the movement, but he tilts his head, thoughtful and not at all judgmental. Dean only has to squirm under the tender scrutiny for a few seconds before Cas says, “What do you want, Dean?”

“I want to come on your cock, and soon.”

Cas physically doubles over and lets out a soft whimper. “Please never stop saying things like that.”

“Does that mean you’ll fuck me now?” he grins, and Cas grips the base of his own cock saying, “Patience,” as he adds lube and a third finger, then pats around on the bed to find the condom. “No,” Dean growls. “Bare. I’m clean. You?”

Cas nods. “Are you sure about this?”

“Please.” His whole body is quivering with just barely restrained lust and he knows he won’t last much longer, no matter what he wants. He’ll be embarrassed later, but right now, he can’t help but beg. “Please Cas. Fuck me, fuck me, please fu - Fuck!” 

Cas slides in, steady and slow and then they both pause, gasping. “You feel…” Cas whispers. “Divine.” And with that, he starts moving. 

Dean clenches tight around him as presses impossibly deeper and from the first thrust he’s nailing Dean’s prostate. “Fucking perfect. So good for me.” In this headspace, the praise just urges Dean on, winds him higher, and he tilts his head back and whines. Cas buries his face in the crook of Dean’s neck, sucking marks into the skin. “You’re mine, Dean Winchester. _Mine_ , you understand?” 

“Always,” Dean gasps, and he’s not sure whether he’s saying he always will be, or always has been. Regardless, he turns his head for a kiss, and Cas obliges, deep and rough.

It’s manic. The pain and confusion that was the front for all that love they have for one another has finally broken open, and they’re frantic, desperate, and it shows. For all their aggression, there’s a sweetness to it too, Dean running his fingertips through Cas’s hair when he looks a little too raw, Cas pressing gentle kisses to every surface he can reach when Dean starts holding on tight enough to leave bruises, subconsciously terrified of losing him again. 

They last what Dean considers to be a remarkably long time but then Cas makes this sound, this fucking whimper, and Dean remembers him flipping the knife in the kitchen, raw power and skill, reduced to mewling by his body alone and he loses it. “Cas, please, I’m gonna -” Maybe Cas can still read minds because he takes his lube-covered hand and wraps it around Dean’s cock, jerking him quickly, and finally, thank fuck, Dean arches up off the bed.

Cas follows immediately after, curling into Dean’s chest with a shout, so tense that Dean’s momentarily worried, until Cas’s whole body, every muscle, abruptly relaxes. They’re gross, and neither man moves for a long while, not until Cas says, “Wish I was still a damn angel so we didn’t have to walk to the damn shower.” 

Dean snorts but it keeps getting funnier, and by the time they’re rolling of the come-covered sheets he’s shaking with laughter. “That’s so…” He calms down a little as he collects his thoughts. (He’s also distracted by Cas’s ass in front of him, but that’s neither here nor there.) “It sounds like you’re coming to terms. With the human thing.”

They magically make it to the showers without running into Sam (miracle of miracles), and Cas is testing the water as he says, “Yes, I suppose I am.”

“What if…” Dean’s pulling towels from a locker and gets lost in the thought as it knocks his knees weak. “What if you could go back?”

“To being an angel?” Cas calls from across the room, digging out the shampoo.”

“Yeah.”

“I would in a heart beat.”

“Oh.” 

Dean’s chest feels like maybe it’s collapsing in on itself, but it’s nothing. No big deal. Just the best sex of his life with his best friend and soul mate who would leave him in a millisecond if given the chance. Not that Dean blames him. It just hits harder now that he’s used to Cas knocking around the bunker, or tripping over the puppy as it follows Cas from room to room. Was getting used to his voice and his smell, and it was a bad idea. He knew it from the start. How stupid of him to have forgotten. 

“That bothers you?” 

Cas’s voice is close, right over his shoulder and he startles. “No! No, Cas of course not.”

“Then what?” 

Dean wouldn’t have answered except that he sees the fear in Cas’s eyes, matching the shitstorm in his own chest and he says, “Just...you always leave, when you’ve got the juice to do it.”

“Dean -”

“I mean, it’s ok, I understand man, I just -”

“Dean -”

“Thought for a second...but it was dumb -”

Cas tackles him into the tile wall, cushioning Dean’s head with his palm just before it hits, and kisses him like they hadn’t just fucked ten minutes ago. Like he’s starving for it. Dean squeaks in surprise but melts under the assault immediately after. He thinks he’ll always be at the mercy of this man.

“I’m not leaving,” Cas finally gasps. “I need to be able to heal you, Dean, to protect you. I can’t watch over you like I should without my grace. It’s why I’ve spent so much time in the shooting range, and running. I’m not nearly as strong as I was, but I can’t lose you, not again, not now.” 

“Oh,” Dean says again and Cas pulls him into the warm spray. They wash each other, hands gentle in the aftermath, fingers slippery against skin. The only noise is the occasional whispered, “love you,” and soft sounds where their bodies slide together. Later, as they towel off, Dean breathes deeply, feeling lighter than he has in years, though he’s gonna feel the twinge in his ass for a few days. 

“Breakfast?” Cas murmurs sweetly, and Dean sees he’s wearing the same damn boxers as that morning in the kitchen where Dean nearly sacrificed a hip to the hiding of his feelings. 

“Fuck yes. Bacon?”

Cas grins and leads them into the cool air of the hallway. “You know, you're pretty distracting too."

“Yeah? Distracting how?”

Wrapping an arm around Dean’s waist, Cas presses close to his body and says, “Well, the list is extensive, but we can start with your ass in those dark wash jeans -” 

They happen to be passing Sam’s room, and he’s just leaving, probably also on his way to breakfast, so he hears every word. “Oh my god, no,” he says, and retreats immediately back into his room. Under normal circumstances, Dean would be embarrassed, but today he’s unstoppable. He bangs on Sammy’s door obnoxiously and yells, “Come on, Sammy boy! We’re making bacon!”

Cas finally drags him away, and as they mozy, clean and satisfied, to the kitchen he says, “There’s a dick joke about meat somewhere in there, but I’m not sure…” He looks like he’s genuinely considering it and Dean destroys his concentration by attacking him with a kiss. 

“What was that for?” Cas murmurs, blushing.

Dean kisses his cheek, shaking his own head in wonder. “You really are becoming a Winchester.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for the lovely comments, they're the reason this happened. Much love everyone.


End file.
